Dear Last Inning,

Written by: Francesca Sikora

Edited by: Joshua Hicks

My dad forced me to go. I played in-house league growing up and it was all about the post-game snacks. One night we got a call, a travel team was short players and asked me to fill in. My dad answered for me, “yes she’ll be there”. I was annoyed. Playing in the games I did pretty well and when they invited me back to continue with them for the summer I was not interested, but my dad was persistent, and now I was playing travel softball.

I was the worst one on the team. As an unathletic 13-year-old, I was moved up to a 16u team. It was my first year of travel ball and trying to develop into a teenager while competing with girls way older than me tore me apart. I used to excel while playing with girls my age, I was tall, strong confident. And now I’m the bottom of the barrel fighting to fit in. I couldn’t throw as hard, hit as hard, run as fast. I never wanted to go to practice, it seemed like a useless event that would only make me feel worse about myself. Quitting was never an option in my dad's eyes.

I made the junior varsity team during my freshman year. This was devastating because I wanted to be on varsity so bad. One Thursday afternoon I received a text from the head varsity coach. “Hey Frankie, you’re going to suit up with varsity today. I put a uniform in the locker room for you #11”. As a freshman who was so defeated before, the excitement came over me and I thought I could cry. Finally, I felt like they understood my talent and that I could produce when given the chance. I sprinted to the locker room after class and put on the maroon varsity uniform. The pants were too tight and I couldn’t wear my sliding shorts, but as a chubby freshman, I was too embarrassed to tell the coach. I never wore sliding shorts again. At the varsity game, I got to pinch hit. My first varsity high school hit was a double, left-center gap, which became my favorite hitting spot on a field. From that day on, I got to play and practice with the varsity. Even though I didn’t play much, I wore those maroon jerseys and tight pants with pride.

Towards the end of the season, something didn’t feel right. I started getting a pain in my lower back that I could no longer ignore. I continued to play softball over the summer although it just worsened. At the time, I was also a cheerleader and the pain was becoming unbearable. This continued until I was missing too much school and couldn’t do daily activities. My L5 S1 disks had herniated into the nerve line creating so much irritation that my foot was going numb. That was it, I needed surgery, and would miss my sophomore season of softball.

This dug at me hard. Finally, I was on varsity and eager to take on a larger role when my back wasn’t there to support me. Now I had to explain to my coach how I’m going to miss an entire season because of a back injury, at 16 years old. I was angry. It wasn’t fair that my back gave out. Why couldn’t I be healthy and play with everyone else? Can’t I just ice it and do more therapy? It was no use. I had surgery on March 21st, 2014.

Before my surgery, they had to talk to me about how playing softball again was not a guarantee. Lifting heavy weights would be almost impossible to do without injuring my back and that I need to brace myself if the surgery is not a success. I was so young to be having it and no happy story outcome was promised. The waiting and uncertainty killed me. My nerves were constant and my fate was in limbo.

After the surgery, they stated everything went well but I still need to take it slow. My dad bought me the brand new 2014 Easton Mako bat. As I was so excited to see it, my heart was broken thinking I would never be able to use it in a game. They told me it would be 6 months of physical therapy before putting my cleats back on. I figured what’s the point in trying again.

 “You can always quit but you can’t always get back into it”. This was the advice my dad gave me when I was not considering playing in college. I didn't want to listen. He kept pushing me to go to batting practices and work with me outside, I complained all the time. He knew I could be better, I’d cry that he was too hard on me. Softball became the enemy and I didn’t want to play anymore. It wasn’t fun, I wasn’t any good, and there was no future for me and the sport.

My junior year started and I was back in the game, more just going through the motions. For travel ball, I got back behind the plate catching. Everyone looked to me as a leader on the team and I was hooked again. College coaches began talking to me and my dad. They loved my size, standing 5’8 with muscle and some speed. Also, I was loud, I never stopped talking during games. I would get a rush every time a coach reached out to me or I went on a college visit. The attention was nice but I was still unsure. Again my dad was persistent.

After looking at about 15 colleges and meeting with their coaches, I had one school left. This school was located down south and was the last on our list, we had been to 5 other schools that weekend. I was tired of asking the questions and pretending to be interested in the team and schools values and what they look for. I wanted to cancel the last visit, looking the school up online did not please me; it was in the middle of nowhere, in a town I’ve never heard of, at a school no one knows. Again, my dad forced me to go on my last visit. I arrived on campus and fell in love. This school was Illinois college, and playing softball there was the best decision of my life. I signed on February 3rd, 2016 (my birthday).

My senior year of high school we won the state championship for 3A. For my senior year, I got to DH (just hit). After all of this struggle and ups and downs, I didn’t give up. And to this day I hold 2 IHSA state records; most hits in a game and most doubles in a game.

Like high school, the beginning of college softball was a rough start for me. I continued to DH my freshman year but could not field. I struggled with my emotions and nerves. My dad would give me benedryll before softball games because my anxiety would be so high I would physically shake during games. Even though I didn’t care about the sport at the time, I always wanted to be the best and try the hardest. By my junior year, I got in medication for my anxiety and emotions and was able to find peace and calm down.

I missed the backhand. In the elimination game at the conference tournament of my last season, I was playing 3rd. My coach had pulled me in so I was close for a bunt. The batter ripped on right down the line and I missed it. We were in the bottom of the 8th tied 0-0. I watched the ball zip past me as it made its way down the left field line. I felt like I was going to throw up, I was going to lose us the last game of our season. It was my fault. All of my hard work and numerous comebacks flashed before my eyes. All of it led up to this moment, my last play ever in a game being an error. An error that led us to lose the game. They scored on the next play and ended up winning and I will never forget that moment.

Softball has never been my friend, it was always my enemy. I wanted nothing to do with it, but sticking with it is the best thing I ever did. The sport gave me more amazing people than I ever expected as well as made me the person I am today. The game of failure tore me down more times than it raised me up and I am thankful. I have formed into a leader, friend, teammate, and now coach working to teach others to find the silver lining in between the white lines. At the end of the day, no one will remember your batting average, awards, or plays. They are going to remember your character if you were a friend, a leader, a good teammate. They are going to remember how you changed their lives.

Sometimes it takes a step back to reflect. Realize all of those who have supported you along the way. I thank every coach I have ever had for what they have taught me. They made me not only the player I am today but a determined young lady. I thank every teammate I’ve ever had. All of the support and reassurance and never-ending confidence in me. They are truly your biggest support system on and off the field and will become your life long friends. Lastly, my friends and family. Thank you for always being there for me and not killing me when I would throw a fit. If it was taking me to play with dogs after a bad practice or buying me a coffee even though I played bad, I appreciate everything. My mom has always been the biggest mediator between me and my dad and helped me feel better and she never gave up on me. Lastly, thank you to my dad. He was one stubborn fucker and pushed me each and every day, physically and mentally. Whether it was making me watch games to learn, scheduling extra practices, or making me lift weights when I tore my hamstring because you know, “your arms are fine”. I would have never made it through without my number one dude.

Thank you to softball and allowing me to embed #33 in my soul.